


Inhale On One, Exhale On Two

by krissmnasi



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: ( Merlin is the only one that smokes ), Flirting, M/M, Partying, Pre-Canon, Romance, Shotgun kiss, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissmnasi/pseuds/krissmnasi
Summary: A month-long mission goes well and Kingsman celebrates. Hamish was never the type to party, and Harry joins him in his non-partying outside.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Inhale On One, Exhale On Two

This was a case the organisation had been working on for months, thus it deserved proper celebration. Hamish wasn’t much for large crowded areas; he sat outside at the field by the stairs, where he held a cigarette to his lips, sucked in with his lungs, and exhaled deeply. The inside of the headquarters was lit up in almost every room, cheers and music muffled only by the doors that separated the tech wizard with everybody else. It’s not that he found it drab, he just never enjoyed excessive company.

Lanky legs with knees held up to his chest, and another puff of smoke flies into the air out of his mouth. For a second, he can hear the noise behind him get louder, until it’s just as quickly shut away. Someone came outside, and he was brushing a significant amount of glitter off his white button up and his hair, which had eventually brought Hamish’s attention up to his current company.

“I don’t suppose you’re having much fun out here,” Harry says, eloquent as always, despite the hand that’s carding through dark, tousled hair to get rid of rogue glitter. Hamish grunts in response and takes another drage of his cigarette. Harry idly watches the end of it burn. “Mind if I join you?”

“If you’re asking for a smoke, I don’t have any left.” It’s to keep himself from getting addicted, no more than one of them tucked in his pocket, he says to himself, and he’ll ween off them someday.

Harry hums at that, sits down next to Hamish, and he can take in all of his display. Harry Hart is the type of man to keep himself well dressed and well groomed at all hours of the day. To see him so disheveled- hair uncombed, shirt just slightly unbuttoned, and leather suspender-holsters empty of weaponry- sitting next to him, his knees drawn up, was a contrast. Not a  _ bad  _ contrast; if Hamish had to admit it, he’d say it was rather tasteful. “Lee thought it wise to pop one of those glitter trinkets he’s so fond of playing with. It’s going to take  _ weeks _ to get it out of my fucking hair.”

Small talk was never Hamish’s forte, and he’s thankful it’s neither Harry’s, who doesn’t say anything and simply looks away to his right as Hamish looks to his left to avoid blowing smoke into his companion’s face.

“It’s a beautiful night tonight,” Harry says, looking distantly forwards to the endless fields. Empty at the forefront, where the track from the farm to the building is, which then goes into a forest. If he looks hard enough, markers on the ground, for training, coloured brightly for easy tracking. “Though, if I’m sensing correctly, it’s going to get cold fairly soon.”

And it’s Hamish’s turn to hum, like he’s known all this time but couldn’t care any less. Another inhale of the cigarette. Harry turns to face Hamish, leaning in closer.

And Hamish leans in too, blowing smoke directly into Harry’s mouth who makes the quick decision to close the gap.

Harry, the gentleman that he is, holds Hamish by the side of his cheek, a hand gently caressing it, as Hamish places his free hand on Harry’s waist. When they break apart, a small puff of smoke ascends from between the two of them, and it would’ve been arousing had Harry not turned to the side and coughed.

“Ah, shit, Harry, are ye alright?” The speed at which Hamish could go from serious to caring warmed the other man, who had coughed hard enough to hurt his throat. Hamish had one hand on Harry’s back, rubbing slowly, like he was coaxing the smoke out of him. “I should’ve warned you. One’s first smoke isn’t the smoothest.”

“Next time we try that, blow a little less of it into my throat, would you?” Still, Harry maintained his politeness, even if it was laced with some poison. Hamish laughs, something low and guttural, as he takes another drag of his cigarette. When he leans back on the steps, it’s with his arms out, like he was inviting Harry to tempt him but he hasn’t decided what for just yet.

“Would you like to try again?”

“Practice does make perfect.”

One leg goes over Hamish’s lap, and Harry uses one hand to balance himself, knees on the staircase, free hand on Hamish. This time, Hamish doesn’t inhale any smoke, just for  _ practice _ , to understand the basics before they can take a step up. It’s like learning to eat fire, where you start with just the sticks; he’s starting with just their mouths. The smoke can come later.

Harry then leans to take the cigarette from Hamish’s hand, to which he steals a few kisses, to the Englishman's chagrin. He leans in a few more times, straddling Hamish’s crotch with his own, until he can finally swipe it away, dignified. He’s not quite sure what to do with it now; he would take a drag too, if it wasn’t for the bad first experience.

“I’ll practice with you as many times as you’d like. Would you like step one?” Harry smiles at that, leans closer once more, lips just barely brushing with Hamish’s. Until the sudden sound of the party snaps both their heads up towards the door, seeing Lee with his head out in search of something-  _ someone _ .

“Oh. Uh, well, I was ‘bout to go home, just wanted to pop around and tell everyone goodbye and how proud I am and all that,” Lee says, sweet as ever, who tries his best to make eye contact and yet avert his gaze. The young man he is, he doesn’t want to intrude. “So, yeah, have fun.” 

Hamish begins to respond, “Thank you, Agent Lance-”

And, like that, he’s gone.

The two look at each other and exchange laughter, which is when Hamish takes the chance to lead his hand up Harry’s back, resting it on the nape of his neck so that he can lean them on their foreheads.

“So, about that practice?”

“Right, of course. Teach me how to do it without the smoke first, then we can step up, hm?”

“Sounds good to me. Promise you’ll help me clean out the glitter in my vest?”

“Sounds like a deal, Merlin, a fair trade indeed.”


End file.
